#double agent nabs!

[slyvester101]

Au where everyone was born and raised on Chorus during the conflict between The Republic and the Feds.

The Chairman is still orchestrating the whole war, but this time the Director is right there with him and they work on opposing sides as leader/advisor to keep the fight going because corruption or something.

It’s mostly the Freelancers with the Director on the Feds side and the Reds and Blues and the Chairman are with the Republic but there are many exceptions.

Flowers/Florida was a double agent who flip flopped between sides as he pleased (thus the double names) but got caught and shot kinda early in the war. Wyoming is a merc who also flip flops between sides but everyone knows he’s an asshole like that and only works for pay so while he’s hated, he’s left alive. CT was a Fed who wanted to change sides, but got shot down before she could (and ironically was the reason many of the Freelancers started doubting the Director). Tex was a Fed, but switched sides when she realized the Director was playing them for fools (little did she know, the Republic was facing a similar problem).

Church was also a Fed, brother of Carolina and son of the Director, but was severely neglected because he couldn’t match up to her in anything, not skill, not intellect, not even charisma. His only saving grace was Tex because he wasn’t afraid to snark or dis her and that earned her respect, and his accidental pen pal Caboose (he was trying to hack into Republic coms and ended up messaging Caboose and of course Caboose made him his friend). When Tex leaves, Church stays to play double agent and foil Carolina and the Feds where he can (he also gets a much snarkier pen pal by the name of Tucker).

Wash used to be a member of the Republic but got blasted in the head a little too hard, forgot basically everything about himself, and then got nabbed by the Freelancers so now he’s with the Feds. Cut to Tucker and Wash, who were childhood friends, meeting on the battle field and Wash gets a massive migraine because his brain knows this person and Tucker is going through all the stages of grief because he thought Wash was dead but actually he just dipped to be a Fed.

The rest of the Reds and Blues are generally the same, but they are more outwardly competent since they grew up in war. Tucker and Grif are seen as the best soldiers on base, Sarge is a bit more supportive towards his troops, specifically Simmons and not Grif, Donut is a little more like he is in the first few episodes of RVB (exasperated, a little down on his luck, but still optimistic even if it’s constantly being tested). He’s also deadly with a sniper and rarely misses. Lopez is still a snarky robot who is stuck on Spanish, but he’s been retired to taking care of kids and training cadets instead of fighting. And Caboose is Caboose because he’s perfect fuck you.

Plot happens and shit goes south and people get hurt and possibly die, but things probably turn out okay in the end.

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Motherlode

And here I find myself again, circling back to the same basic thoughts about this arc that really only stretched itself out to about double what I and most others predicted. You get my angle right? While the world's watching, while the fandom's watching someone not named Nico Robin give a little nuggie of Void Century lore...200 chapters after Bakura Town, 100 after Kiku's fall, in a chapter after one with a folk lore allusion title. Stussy breaks the seal. Speaking more or less the same trauma. It's even the same central idea of Wano; ensuring the Straw Hat's escape was Stella's final command. It all runs on that old school Japanese take on ideal feminity; "A woman's happiness is taking care of those she loves." Self-sacrifice to repay kindness towards you.

Bonney has so much to compare and contrast, you're a solid candidate for someone who could kinda fuse Kiku & Yamato, but Stussy? You're our Tamataebako buddy with the same eyes. A trans woman and a clone, can't say it isn't relatable and they both have a demonic facade without an ounce of action girl tomboy tropes. Stussy can nab that torch now just like Bonney could have. But you still exist in that space. Why are we doing you now, after the others? We still have cards unplayed from Wano. When their theme is subtlety one should expect waiting until the final phase.

This chapter gives me a lot that has me excited.

We have a whole theme this chapter of people responding again and doubling down on the idea these different faces we know are reacting differently to Vegapunk's speech. Things different fans are reacting to. Wano the Joyboy lore, Carrot the weaponry, but it's one of those simple tricks that fuel a big deception. None of it is really that much deeper than clarifying what we as readers sorta knew. Of course, for Wano...it isn't the full group but we see a group. It'd make perfect sense for Kiku to be smiling and holding a tray with the implication she brought the dango, she could appear any example of this cover serial...but this is how you have to look at things when strategic absence is an established motif. Oh, and I guess Shino just got to stay youthful. Rock on mature woman, enjoy it.

The world is merely learning more or less what we know. The real story is still playing out. Stussy, the escape, this time we aren't breaking away. It's almost like a good rap track where the first two verses are smooth and melodic leading into a rapid-fire third verse to really hammer the message. I think we'll stick with that as the message unfolds. But this arc has just enough gas it's the opening act not the final point in and of itself. What makes me feel confident this time? Glad you asked:

Nojiko caring more about the farm bolsters this and her alone would have me freaking the fuck out but...bruh. Miss Goldenweek? Goldie!? Marianne and her hilarious in hindsight apple hat? Peep the suitcase, they're leaving to find Cross Guild. But yeah! Miss Friggin Goldenweek and Nojiko have an interesting response to this worldwide message. I love it too. They don't really seem to care much. Nami's big sister and a mellow girl that was one of Luffy's most vexing opponents. She got a cover serial, this little lady was always an oddball waiting to surprise us. For now though this is dope. Don't let her demeanor fool you, she was clearly a top agent for a reason and the reasons really aren't that different than the archetype I see out of Kiku.

What specifically does it though is how she's paired with the reaction focusing on the common people killed as collateral damage. Now let's take it altogether. Because something else going on under the message brings us back to where this felt most powerful:

Uh-oh. The big cloud layer is under attack. The Elbaf ship is getting surrounded. What if they weren't enough? For all the talk about other stuff that could happen if the Giants are the penultimate surprise addition...is it just gonna be the Grand Fleet after all? They make so much sense big picture. Robonosuke is still hanging around at the edge of all this too. Because things are getting dire on Egghead underneath the lore dump.

All in all...I love this shit right now because it's exactly what I've been on about since Wano ended. Wall to wall this chapter. 1115 is a straight banger.

[grapecaseschoices]

private investigator au!

fun fact, Kendis Bishop is my PI au for Kendis. Inspired, but not quite, this.

I think BG3 as a PI au would be fun/interesting:

It would be called Who Killed Kidnapped Ulder Ravengard?

I don't think there would be a Tav, it'd just be Wyll as the main character he is. He was kicked out home by his rich daddy, thanks to some deal gone [seemingly] wrong. Ulder's obviously a politician. Maybe Governor of BG.

It would still be centered around cults, but I think here the cult of tiamat would have a bigger role. Maybe a comeback. Maybe involving Shar and Vlaakith, bc I always see Lae'zel, Shadowheart, and Halsin as the secondary main characters.

Bhaal isn't as prominent but Durge and Gortash are involved. Gortash as arms dealer and redeemed!Durge as a show to Lae'zel and Shadowheart that you can shake off your shackles and brainwashing.

Actually, I think Minthara and Durge can play as mirrors.

Karlach works for Gortash still but she found out that he's got some shady plans against the Dekarios and the Ravengards, and it's something that she struggles with.

Mizora is tied to Gortash through Zariel, and suspects what Gortash doesn't want to so she sends Wyll to take out Karlach [Mizora is Wyll's boss AND his informant].

But Wyll sees what's up and employees Karlach as a double agent --- she doesn't last very long as one [subtlety is not her forte], but she nabs a bunch of info on her way out

IDK there are other vague thoughts about the cults being a smokescreen to Gortash wanting to sell drugs and guns, but they're also a threat that he can't quite control.

I am making this up as I go along. But it will involve a Wyll and Durge romance. My Durge. IDK what Kaeliana is doing other than trying to help the misguided [Maybe Halsin put her on it, bc I see him as a big brother to her]

This is so disjointed but I refuse to dive deeper before I actually start feeling some time of way for it

Thanks for the ask bb <3

[agl03]

FANDOM MAMA! I need a nice calm down, its going to be okay, and grief session post from you from Secret Invasion! It came out of no where!

Hi Anon,

Just finished watching myself and yeah there are feelings but per usual my mind is spinning and its time to bust out the cork board. Since this heads into a new fandom where I'm not known for spoilers we are going under the line. Just like the early AOS days, awww.

I don't know how much help i can be. That was definitely a heart wrenching way of kicking off the Season in a big way and show they mean business.

Maria was definitely on my list of not going to make it overall, but I didn't think it would be Episode one. From the previews she seemed like so much more of a player over all and I want to think they'd give her a bigger bang of a send off. Though it has a bit of the Coulson shock value flare to it.

SO

That has my theory addled don't trust freaking anything brain entertaining that might not have been the end of her.

She seemed indeed human. The deaths of the Conspiracy Agent and hers were very similar, same weapon, same lingering shot. In both cases the bodies were left behind. Meaning anyone (cough Skrulls cough) could pick them up. The Skrulls may have the ability to heal them or the weapon was meant to make it look like they died. Meaning she could be used as shell or popped into those fancy pods to get the information and memories. Maria has a dangerous amount of information that is trouble for a lot of people in the hands of the wrong person.

Then I was thinking that in the chaos of everyone running in all directions, explosions, Maria was nabbed in the choas, and a double took the hit. They made a point of showing how fast they changed their looks, it just took a second out of sight. We saw Skrulls will revert to their true form after they die, but they can also take quite a bit of damage, that shot may have been nothing for who was impersonating her so Fury thinks she's dead.

Her returning at a peak moment when we are in the middle of not trusting anyone on the screen would make things ever so complicated. There is no way Fury would trust her, even if it was indeed the real Maria miraculously back because he watched her die.

There are lots of places they could take her with her clearance that could do some serious damage. If Fury doesn't get the word out, Rhodes for example could agree to meet her and walk in a trap. Though he is on the not trust list at the moment too. Basically everyone is currently on the not to trust list ATM.

Plus we don't know where Ross is, is he in one of those fancy pods and his image/knowledge being used. Or is he off hiding elsewhere.

But even if we see her again no matter what it could be the end for her and I have very little hope of her making it through...there is a small bit there though.

For the AOS fans reading this, buckle up we have got Season 4B nightmare situation. At least in 4B we had a finite number of suspects, now its any number of new and old faces that could be in the mix. Heck, the same face might not be safe with one being good and one being a evil Skrull.

The feel I get from this series is someone's story is coming to and end, Maria and Fury are some of the last of the OG's left. So like we've seen in a lot of the recent movies, a torch will be passed one way or another.

For now, hang tight, it will be okay, and know we are in for quite the ride!

[vrokx]

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[time-keepers-blade]

All about my oc's!

This post is just gonna be covering all the bases regarding my oc's. Lmk if anyone wants know more abt my oc's.

Dustin Springs/Demix Desmonty

Demix is technically a double agent, as they are a character in an arg of mine as well as being a slenderverse oc. The two version of Demix do not intersect minus the name.

The slenderverse version of Demix is the character I'll most likely write for.

Demix Desmonty, formally know as Dustin Springs, is a non-human entity that was once a prominent member of the Desmonty family, a family of high-level entities that control the birth and death of the many realities and universes. In a sense, the family controls time altogether, earning them the nickname "The Timekeepers".

Demix was originally born well over 2,000 years ago, allowing them to watch the rise and fall of civilizations, realities, and universes. They were the youngest member of their family, being the only child to their two fathers. They kept mostly to themselves, observing the many versions of humanity from a distance, never choosing to directly interact.

They'd had several interactions with other prominent entities, including the infamous "HABIT" and "Slenderman". Despite having interactions with other entities, they've always chosen family over friends, always staying near to their fathers.

Unfortunately, Demix was a vulnerable soul, finding pain and discomfort very easily. Demix saw humanity, saw the wars and genocides, saw the ugliness and despair.

Demix despised humanity, and eventually, they despised theirself, hating their animalistic nature, wishing to be anything other than monster. Their self hatred lead to a deep depression, lasting them several hundreds of years. It all came to a halt when they took their own life in the early 1940's, human time.

Demix was reincarnated in the early 1990's as Destiny Chávez. Born to a young mother, dropped into the hands of a college-aged father, Destiny spent their early childhood within the custody of their father. Their father was quickly discovered by Demix's previous father, who chose to assimilated with Destiny's father. The assimilation process was inevitably painful, scary, torturous at moments. This lead the young father to seek a means of keeping Destiny safe, and so, he opted for placing his child on adoption.

Destiny was adopted at age 7 by Miranda and Steven Springs, whom chose to rename their new child to Destiny Springs. At around 15, Destiny came out as transgender, a decision that was met with enthusiastic support. Destiny chose his name to be Dustin, and by 18 he'd had his name and gender legally changed.

Though Dustin was born in North Carolina, he and his three closest friends chose to move out to a place far north; Princeton, New Jersey.

Zakariah Avons

A mysterious and mischievous friend of Dustin Springs. Born to a family of witches and mediums, he harbors the ability to see, communicate with, and even touch any non-human entities. He became best friends with Dustin in high school and chose to join him in the big move to Princeton, NJ.

Rosalinn Hall

This is my creepypasta oc. Born of German descent, she harbors the natural ability to control and create fire, pyrokenesis. This handy power leads to her being nabbed by the ever-so-infamous Slenderman.

Born to Melinda and William Hall, Rosalinn, or Rosie, spent her early years living in the woods of southern Mississippi, happily safe with her mother, father, and her older sister named Dawn.

In a tragic turn of events, Rosie's father is killed in military combat, causing Rosie's mother to become a widow. The grief-stricken family chose to move out of the woods and closer to the water, landing them in Gulfport, Mississippi.

Through attending high-school in the city, Rosie captures the attention of a traveler from Coloarado. After several months of stalking, the stranger begins to leave behind notes and cues, telling Rosie about her own family's history. Finding connection to a German farmer who had bared witness to the Slenderman, or Der Großman's attack on invasive soldiers, the stranger chooses to snatch Rosie on one of her daily walks, taking her directly to the faceless tree god itself.

Rosie is taken in and trained as a sort of "evidence swiper", being given the job of burning down any evidence of Der Großman's many shenanigans.

[lightumbra-a]

@gerudosage​ |  ❤

“i do so appreciate your companionship, but...you need not stay here. i would rather you be safe than stay with me.”

[adventure-with-loki]

[You were supposed to be watching the prisoner.]

Written by: @the-emo-asgardian

Pairing: Loki x Reader.

Summary: After the Battle of New York, you’re assigned to watch Loki. Little did SHIELD know, you were a double agent.

Word Count: 381

Warning: none!

You were supposed to be watching the prisoner. Of course, it really was their fault for assigning that task to you.

“Come on,” you said to Loki, twirling the stolen key for his cuffs in your fingers.

He raised a suspicious eyebrow. ��Where are we going?”

“Somewhere safe where we can get revenge on this blasted organization.”

A dangerous gleam glinted in your, and Loki smirked. “Ah, a double agent. And perhaps turning you in would get me into someone’s good graces. Yet, I am sure you have calculated; I am no fan of SHIELD, nor do I particularly intend to befriend them. But do not be mistaken. The enemy of your enemy is not always your friend.”

“Fine then,” you shrugged, pulling him by the chains around his wrists. “Stay my prisoner then.”

His eerie calm chilled you to the bone. This act that he knew something you didn’t freaked you out to no end. And the way he followed like a wraith as you snuck around the base made you feel that you were being haunted by a specter.

This was it; the culmination of your whole career. If being a backstabbing traitor could be considered a career. Did you feel bad about betraying the agents you’d been in life and death situation with? Well, yes; you weren’t heartless. But you had other duties too, and just enough time and technology to pass by cameras without them alerting anyone of what you were doing. And in the chaos of the aftermath of the battle, everyone was still running around for you to do what you had to.

“Pray tell, what exactly is going on here?” Loki’s voice cut through the air after your third car change, this time into a nondescript white van.

To be honest, you only had a vague idea yourself. When the directive came in to nab the prisoner, you hadn’t thought much of it. It also hadn’t mentioned anything of whether you were allowed to tell him or not. In fact, you supposed you were only assuming the plan was to work with him to take down that damn SHIELD. No one had told you explicitly.

Well, it looked like it was up to your own judgement whether or not you would tell the god.

Choices:

Tell Loki the truth

Avoid the question

[remakethestars]

CABIN 10 — APHRODITE

Headcanons.

❝I want to apologize to all the women I have called pretty before I’ve called them intelligent or brave. I am sorry I made it sound as though something as simple as what you’re born with is the most you have to be proud of when your spirit has crushed mountains. From now on, I will say things like, ‘You are resilient,’ or, ‘You are extraordinary.’ Not because I don’t think you’re pretty. But because you are so much more than that.❞ 

— Rupi Kaur

Headcanon masterlist.

They’re the camp hairdressers. You need a trim? You want it cut? You want it died? You want to shave it all off? Hit ‘em up.

The type of people that will straight-up chop their hair if it doesn't match their outfit. Somehow, it always works out? I'm looking at Micarah Tewers.

They also run a secret ear piercing — or anything else you need to pierce — parlor.

Okay, but consider: children of Aphrodite that grow up to be models.

They can charm speak the photographers into letting them pick their own poses & not make them do seductive ones if they’re not comfortable with them.

Some create clothing lines that represent sustainable fashion & have big names but small carbon footprints.

Some are spies.

Think about it! They know how to switch subtle bits of their personality to fit in with everyone they come across, when & when not to use their charm.

The hide outfits under other outfits & can slip one off in public to reveal the other & lose a tail.

And they'd probably be great at disguise makeup. Add a prosthetic chin, contour their nose differently, pull off their wig, & they're a completely different person.

Plus, their combat training at C.H.B. makes them the perfect agent.

The floor next to their bunk is scattered with fabric cuttings, pins, needles, their sewing machine, serger, & measuring tape.

The number of times someone's gotten a needle or pin in their foot's a tad concerning.

Will absolutely not wear a top with an overstitched collar. Fast fashion is so tacky! Understitch is the way to go, the staple of a quality garment.

Vintage is better. Not because it's in style (that's a plus, though), but because the seams are big enough for you to let out, & it's made to last.

Experts at thrifting. Not just 'cause it's trendy or whatever, but because they're excellent at upcycling & far too many perfectly good clothes go into the land fill each year.

Make stunning dresses out of Good Will table cloths & curtains.

Or stitch two items together into one better whole.

They iron their clothes; they're not animals.

Really good at getting stains out?

Totally in on the corset bustier top trend, but they're using spiral steel boning in place of zip-ties. Because, again, they want things to last & they're not tacky.

Pass each other tips. Like to tuck your top into your tights to avoid the bulge under your skirt.

Some found big-name, organic makeup companies that don't test on animals. They use packaging that can be recycled or that's biodegradable.

Borrow their clothes, sure, whatever, but double-dip in their makeup & die. The bacteria will give them acne. (Or is it the oils? Either way, you'll perish.)

Happy to drop their skincare routine, though.

You need to cover up that tattoo you got from C7? They got you.

Flawless makeup on a budget. Expensive doesn't always mean better.

They're taking you to the pool for a first date? Take a seat, C10 knows just the stuff. They use what Disney Princesses use.

Can guess the right shade of foundation/lipstick for you on the first couple tries.

A lot of them invest in magnetic lashes because glue's a b¡tch.

Reusable makeup wipes.

Rick says C10 kids just sit around the lake & check their reflection, but consider: working out gets them their dream bod. So, yes, they do, in fact, train.

They just do it with intricate braids/hair gel & stylish sportwear.

And if a potential partner finds it unattractive that they’re “too muscly,” they’re no longer a potential partner.

Weapons disguised as jewelry or chapstick/lipstick.

Thalia had a mace canister that turned into a spear, & I gotta say, I.D.K. how she planned to get that through security. Imagine, alternatively, a tube that appears to be full of bright red lipstick when the T.S.A. agent opens it, but actually turns into a spear when opened by a half-blood.

(I have a headcanon that Riptide would just be a pen in the hands of a mortal. Bounced around for years as random objects until Poseidon nabbed it & took it to Chiron — recall that pen you lost?)

A pink, velvet choker that turns into a kopis with a dove embossed in the handle.

Many choose to train in heels. Might as well wear in training what they’ll be wearing when attacked in the street.

They’ve got no time for internalized misogyny. 

“C10′s weak ‘cause they like being pretty!” Good way to lose a kneecap, Annabeth. You’ve grown up in this camp, you knew Selina, & you should know better.

They confront Piper’s misogyny pretty early on after The Lost Hero, but Piper still takes some time to get over her bias toward pink.

Are we not gonna talk about Rick’s fashion choices for Piper throughout the series? “She looks so fashionable.” To whom, Rick? To whom?

You couldn’t’ve done a little internet surfing just to see what was in style? I never leave the house in anything but jeans, Converse, & a graphic t-shirt from Walmart, & even I know she’s dressed like a middle-schooler! Probably because that’s how I dressed in middle-school… That’s not the point.

The point is just because a character likes makeup or fashion or the color pink, doesn’t mean they can’t/won’t fight for their lives & the lives of their friends if/when the time comes. And it doesn’t mean that they’re stupid or judgmental.

I don’t know a lot about makeup. Hades, I don’t even wear makeup — you can’t rub your eyes or scratch your face; it would drive me crazy. I don’t know a lot about fashion either. I don’t understand it, but I can respect it.

❝‘Jesus,’ Sara says as Branley walks past us. ‘Too cold to show off cleavage, so instead she goes for jeans so tight I can see her thong.’ ‘She looks nice,’ I say, and she does. Branley always looks put together in a way that tells me she spends hours in front of a mirror before going outside. And while I don’t understand that, I can respect it.❞

— Alex Craft, Mindy McGinnis’s The Female of the Species

According to The Lost Hero, all children of Aphrodite intuitively speak French. Cool, cool, cool — but consider, all of them also intuitively speak the language of flowers. 

They see a red rose, and they just know it symbolizes love & passion. They see an orange lily, to contrast, & they know it symbolizes hatred. 

There’s a copy of The Language of Flowers in their cabin, and it’s full of annotations, like, So-and-so gave these to so-and-so for Valentines Day! And, So-and-so gave these to so-and-so after their kiss on the Fourth of July; they obviously didn’t do their research! 

They work together with C4 (Demeter) to provide flowers for funerals & the like.

C10 bookshelves also contain a lot of romance novels. 

Beaten up copies of Pride & Prejudice & The Fault in Our Stars with faded highlighter over the beautiful lines & annotations in the margins.

The outside walls are a dusty pink, & the wood’s stained a dark brown that goes surprisingly well with the pink.

Inside, the walls are covered in faded wallpaper.

The southwest wall has a bay window with extra storage in the seat. (There’s not a body in there; they swear.)

(That’s an Arsenic & Old Lace reference, for you youngsters.)

The curtains have one chiffon layer closer to the window & a thicker floral fabric for inside. The thick curtains are replaced based on the season & whether or not someone’s decided to make a romper out of them.

They have a real bell jar with a real rose in front of the window. Legend has it it’s from Aphrodite herself.

Said window is a stained glass image of a dove.

The chaise lounge was probably beautiful when it was brought it, but it’s got fingernail polish & makeup stains on it now. Honestly, someone should really have that thing cleaned.

As you might have noticed, I placed a gif of swans at the top instead of a fancast for Aphrodite. This is because I think, as I believe most Percy Jackson fans do, multiple people should play her. I'd cast Arden Cho, Camila Mendes, Candice Patton, Diane Kruger, & Gal Gadot to start with.

Visit my Aphrodite cabin Pinterest board or my headcanon masterlist.

DISCLAIMER ━━━ I know I got a tad political with this one, but I didn’t & don’t intend to offend anyone. ━━━ These headcanons are what I consider to be canon in my fanfictions. They may be others’s headcanons I’ve subconsciously filed away in my noggin. If one’s yours and you want it removed or credited, please send me your post and let me know.

[freewayshark]

No one else has ever heard of H-E Double Hockey Sticks when I mention it, but you’re writing an au? Please share something!

Hiiiiiiiii that’s because it’s criminally underrated 😭😭😭 but here, have the opening which is still very rough and since it’s a little long for the dash I’ll put it below the cut

Taylor wants to see him.

Buck’s been avoiding her since his last gig went horns up, which, side note, wasn’t his fault! Ali was simply too smart to fall for his scheme! It happens, but it happens to Buck… a lot.

He just, y’know, doesn’t feel good about scamming people out of their souls when he can tell those souls are actually good. Give him a scumbag any day of the week and it’s ready set go.

Taylor loves snatching a good person’s soul though, and she is head demon in charge, so what she says goes.

Hence: she wants to see him, and he doesn’t want to see her.

He goes though, because he knows it’s inevitable, and better he goes willingly than wait until she sends the hellhounds after him.

“Well, look who’s finally showing his face,” Taylor says when he slumps into her office. She arches a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “About damn time, Bucklekin.”

Buck winces at the use of his utterly ridiculous full name. “It’s Buck,” he says wearily, even though he knows she’ll keep calling him the full thing just to torment him.

She smiles what is meant to be sweetly, but there’s just too many teeth involved. “Bucklekin, we need to have a discussion about your performance as of late,” she says, gesturing at the chairs in front of her desk. Buck sits, finding himself immediately uncomfortable. He wiggles around, trying to find a comfortable position before he remembers where he is. Taylor’s probably found a way to make sure there is no possible way to sit comfortably in these chairs.

It’s also just this side of too cold, the kind where if he put on a jacket he would immediately be too hot, so he sits uncomfortably and tries not to shiver.

“Look, I know it’s been a while since I nabbed a soul—”

“It’s been three years.”

Buck’s mouth goes dry. “Oh, Ah. That long?” He squeaks.

“Yes, that long. Bucklekin, I lined you up nicely with that last job. Ali Martin was primed to take the deal! We had an agent on the inside fucking with her at work, making her feel like she’s never going to be able to climb the ladder through skill and hard work alone, all you had to do was seal the deal! But the next thing I know, not only has she not taken the deal, but she quit her job and got a better one at a different company, all after you were whispering in her ear. That’s unacceptable.”

Buck gulps. “Look, Taylor, she saw through me in an instant, she was just too smart—”

“They’re always too something. Ali was too smart, Jamie was too happy with his life, Sasha was too pretty, you always have some sort of excuse for why your deals fall through. You know what I think? I think your gig with Abby—”

“Don’t bring her into this,” Buck growls before he can think better of taking a tone with the boss lady.

Taylor cocks her head to the side, studying him. “I think,” she says, and Buck braces himself for her to keep going with that last train of thought, but instead she veers left. “I think you’ve gone soft. And a soft demon is no use to me.”

“So what, are you going to fire me?”

Her smile turns downright vicious. “Do you think being a failure here means you just get let go so you can go sling electronics at Best Buy for minimum wage? Oh, Bucklekin, you sweet little idiot.” She leans over the desk towards him, literal fire in her eyes. “Where do you think the hellhounds come from?”

Buck feels struck dumb. “I—Are they not…born?”

She makes a mock sympathetic face. “Oh, sweetie, no. They’re made. When one of you little underlings stops being useful walking around out there on two legs it’s time for you to try on four. But you’re lucky, Bucklekin, because you’re pretty. I like looking at you, all human shaped, and won’t get nearly the satisfaction if I turn you into a hound. So I’m giving you one more chance.” She slides a file across her desk with one long, pointy red fingernail. “Get me this man’s soul and that’ll get me off your back for a few years.”

Buck takes the file, but he doesn’t look at it. “Just like that, this one soul and you’ll leave me alone for a while?” He asks, suspicious, because it can’t be that easy.

“There’s a lot can be said about me, but I always hold up my end of a bargain. So yes, get me that soul, and you’re golden.”

He wets his lips. Weighs the folder in his hands. He can do this. “Deal.”

She smirks. “Good. Now get the fuck out of my office.”

[ohthewhomanity]

Okay so I was listening to @amorespatospodcast​ talk about “The First Adventure,” and they were talking about how interesting it is that Beakley was the director of SHUSH when it dissolved, and how double-interesting it is that Beakley recommended Bradford to Scrooge when she knew that there was a mole in the agency, and they also mentioned the feather from “The Split Sword of Swanstantine” a few times…

…and this theory popped into my head, and it’s so darn wacky, I don’t really expect this to be true at all, but still… what if…?

Ducktales spoilers below the cut… haha just kidding… unless…?

On the podcast, Anna and Fabi theorized that the feather that Heron nabbed in “Swanstantine” is Scrooge’s feather, and that it could be used to clone Scrooge and create a “rightful heir of McDuck” that would allow FOWL to find the Papyrus. I like the sound of this, especially since we know that super-fast cloning IS possible in Ducktales, what with all the Gyro clones. Bradford has shown that with the help of agents like Gandra Dee, he is able to use/hijack Gyro and Fenton’s technology. FOWL wouldn’t have to wait years and years to grow an heir; they can just do it with the tech they stole. All they needed was a DNA sample: Scrooge’s feather.

But why do they need the feather now? Why didn’t they take one years ago, in all those decades of Bradford running Scrooge’s business? Bradford has clearly been calmly and quietly planning his moves for years. Why wait until Scrooge is onto him to put this plan in motion?

My answer: he didn’t wait. FOWL did take a DNA sample from Scrooge years ago. This is the second time that Bradford has tried to create a “rightful heir of McDuck.” And the first time? He succeeded!

Beakley was working with Bradford in the time of “First Adventure.” Absolutely she was. She’s the best spy in the world and she doesn’t trust anyone, so there’s nothing that Bradford could’ve said to her to make her trust him, unless she knew what he was all about. And Beakley, at some point while she was an agent of SHUSH, figured out what Bradford and FOWL were up to, and was swayed to Bradford’s side.

Beakley is not an agent of chaos. She does not encourage Scrooge to go on reckless adventures. She was happy to be his housekeeper while he was depressed for ten years, and she wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about him seeking out Atlantis in the pilot. If I remember right, she says she has more than enough adventure in her life raising Webby, and while she encourages Scrooge to talk to his grandnephews, since she values family, she doesn’t tell Scrooge to take them on an adventure. In fact, Scrooge makes a point of telling the kids to not tell Beakley that they’re going, as though he knows she wouldn’t approve.

When Beakley joins the adventure gang in “Last Crash of the Sunchaser,” she is appalled to learn that Scrooge regularly puts the kids – particularly Webby – in danger. I can 100% imagine strict, meticulous, rule-abiding Beakley hearing Bradford’s pitch about controlling the world to stop terrible, chaotic things from happening anymore, and thinking, “Huh, sure, I’m on board with order!”

“But what about ‘The Case Files of Agent 22?’” you ask. “Beakley was working with Scrooge against FOWL then!”

Well, it all depends on exactly when Beakley caught onto Bradford and he gave her his pitch. It could be that the flashbacks we see in “Case Files” are before this, and Beakley is completely above-board at this point. It’s also possible that Beakley is already working with Bradford.

Think about how protocol-oriented she is in this episode. She wants to do things by the book. She hates that Scrooge is going off the rails and changing the plan. She learns to like and respect him over the course of the episode, but the way she reacts to Scrooge’s loose-cannon nature reminds me a lot of how Bradford reacts to Heron in “First Adventure.” Scrooge also encourages Beakley to lighten up in a similar way to how Heron encourages Bradford to embrace his inner villain. Order versus chaos. Control versus adventure.

Maybe Heron had gone off the rails and started acting super extra villain-ish, creating a secret island laboratory and trying to use the Gummi Berries herself instead of just collecting/destroying them like Bradford would have wanted, and so Bradford asked Beakley to reign her in, and she did so in a way that aligned with SHUSH’s agenda, too. After all, she’s a spy; she could easily have ulterior motives for her actions. Along the way, she befriends Scrooge. And if Scrooge trusts and likes Beakley, this helps FOWL. It means that when Bradford finally decides to take a more active role in taking over the world, Beakley can tell Scrooge to let Bradford control his business.

So. We’ve got Bradford trying to take over the world, and we’ve got Beakley – the director of SHUSH – secretly working with him. And now Bradford has access to Scrooge’s finances and technologies. And, Bradford still wants the Papyrus. Maybe he’s going to just keep it. Maybe he just wants to make sure that the McDuck family doesn’t get it. Maybe he’s going to use it to get what he wants – total control of a completely orderly, boring world. The important thing is, to find the Papyrus, Bradford needs a McDuck heir.

Hence the cloning. Bradford gets close enough to Scrooge to get a feather, or some more significant DNA sample. But that’s not all he needs. Anna and Fabi pointed out that a clone wouldn’t necessarily be an “heir.” It would just be a copy. Bradford would need someone else’s DNA to combine with it.

Now, whose DNA would Bradford use? Who would he want to take a sample from? Who does Bradford have on hand who knows what he’s planning and isn’t a total villainous loose cannon?

Answer: Beakley.

It takes a long time. They don’t have Gyro to mooch off of; he’s in Japan, and even when Scrooge does hire him, he hasn’t developed his own cloning technology yet. So when they do finally create the clone, it’s a baby. They’re going to have to wait for it to grow up and be able to find the Papyrus for them.

Meanwhile, Scrooge doesn’t notice any of this, because he’s having a grand old time roaming the world with Donald and Della, creating plenty of chaos for Bradford to hate.

And then – the Spear of Selene. Della vanishes. Donald takes the eggs and leaves. Scrooge is grief-struck.

And so, I think, is Beakley.

I think Beakley has grown attached to the clone-baby, much more than she expected to, and much more than Bradford or anyone else in FOWL has. And I think Beakley, seeing her friend so affected by the loss of his family, suddenly started thinking about how terrible she would feel if something were to happen to this baby. And with Bradford in control, with Bradford who clearly doesn’t understand the power or importance of family using this baby as a tool in his plans, something terrible is bound to happen to this baby.

So she, like Donald, took the baby and ran.

Maybe she struck a deal with Bradford. Maybe she said, “Look, Scrooge isn’t going on any adventures anymore. You don’t have to worry about him creating chaos. Just keep on controlling the world using the money of the richest duck in the world, and you’ll have what you want. As the director of SHUSH, I’ll tell everyone that FOWL was defeated, and dissolve SHUSH so no one will look into your work anymore. I’ll even go keep an eye on Scrooge, and I’ll let you know if he does start adventuring again. Just let me keep the baby.”

And Bradford said yes.

And Beakley told the baby that she was her grandmother.

And Beakley spent the next decade telling her granddaughter not to bother Scrooge. Remember that that is the reason Webby gives in “Case Files” when Scrooge asks why they haven’t gone on adventures together before – Beakley told her not to bother Scrooge. Beakley didn’t want Scrooge adventuring, and she didn’t want Webby in danger.

Fast forward to “Moonvasion.” Bradford has been content this long to quietly control the world, since Scrooge hasn’t been running around causing chaos. But now, the McDuck family has caused an alien invasion of Earth. And like Bradford says, you can’t control the world if the world is destroyed.

So he goes back to his original plan. Collect the magical artifacts that the McDucks and related villains might use to cause chaos. And, importantly, find the Papyrus, the most dangerous of them all.

But, again, he needs the rightful heir of McDuck. There’s a couple potential heirs running around to choose from, but again, there’s only one person who Scrooge McDuck trusts that Bradford has reason to think he could control.

So Bradford contacts Beakley and tells her to bring Webby to him. And we know – Frank Angones has confirmed this – that Beakley would do anything to protect Webby. To protect her physically, and also, as we learned in “Lost Harp of Mervana,” to protect Webby’s perception of Beakley as a good person. The last thing Beakley wants to do now is expose Webby to FOWL and let her discover the truth.

Beakley would do anything to protect Webby. So she agrees to help Bradford create a new clone. She’s a true double agent, actively and sincerely working with both sides. In “Escape from the Impossibin,” she is both serving as a part of the distraction to keep the family from noticing the theft of the missing mysteries until it’s too late (which puts Scrooge in a hurry, sending him out into the field in “Swanstantine,” giving Heron the chance to grab the feather), and she’s also trying to prepare Webby for the very real possibility of having to fight her own family, Beakley included.

Only the best spy in the world – which Beakley is! – could pull something like this off. The thought of losing Webby (both physically and emotionally – if Webby finds out that Beakley betrayed Scrooge, Beakley could lose Webby forever) scares and upsets Beakley enough for her to betray everyone else she cares about, and even sell out the entire world to Bradford.

TL;DR, Beakley is the mole, she initially joined FOWL because she likes order but now is working with them to protect Webby, Webby is a potential rightful heir of Scrooge McDuck, and FOWL is cloning a new heir.

…and now, after rereading this whole thing for typos, I actually kind of buy my own cracky theory. Wow.

And now I’m imagining a future callback to “Last Crash,” when Scrooge told Webby that she wasn’t family, with Beakley standing right there to hear it, which he still to this day has not apologized for. What if Beakley, desperate not to lose her granddaughter, used that painful memory to try to convince Webby that betraying Scrooge to protect her was the right thing to do?

[queenbirbs]

in plain sight | Ch. 2 | Ethan x MC

Book/Pairing: Open Heart / Ethan Ramsey x female MC

Word count: 3.8k

Rating: T

Category: AU series

Warnings: mention of off-screen su*cide, language, alcohol mention

Start at the beginning or continue on

Read on AO3

Tuesday, January 13, 8:21 p.m.

Sifting through a stack of files on his coffee table, the glaze that settled over his eyes hours ago lifts when his phone trills. It takes a moment to find his phone amongst the detritus, in which time two more dings sound.

McTavish (CNN): No go on the bellhop. He didn’t come to the door.

McTavish (CNN): Too bad this isn’t law and order, where every concerned neighbor number two wants to give you their life story

McTavish (CNN): Along with some groundbreaking clue that helps us nab the bad guys

Swiping to open the message thread, Ethan makes some minor edits before responding: I don’t watch Law and Order.

Sloane M. (CNN): I am wholly unsurprised

Sloane M. (CNN): To be fair, I don’t watch the newsroom. I’m more of a mary tyler moore fan

Sloane M. (CNN): Oh right you hate texting

Yes, he taps back at a moderate pace that Baz routinely makes fun of him for, though I don’t mind talking on the phone.

He stares at the little gray bubble that indicates she’s typing her own response. It drops away and comes back several times -- enough that he should just set the phone down and finish reading the report before him. Instead, he navigates to the browser app and taps the search bar. Skimming through the results, he amends the profile of her in his head. After graduating, she was an intern at the CNN studio in DC, then transferred to a reporting position. For two years, she was a foreign correspondent in Kyiv, where she was awarded the Emery International Prize for her series of articles on the War in Donbass. Her return to Boston prompted several of the stories he’d recognized her for: the Nighthawks scandal; Farrugia’s stint as a less-than-stellar mayor; the office-fire-turned-arson that killed Dolores Hudson and her unborn child, which was set to bail out the company via insurance fraud. Ethan is startled out of the article on an attack in Potemkin, Ukraine when his phone rings.

“You figure you being a federal agent would make you better at subtlety.”

“Hello to you, too,” he greets.

“Hey, have you looked into Leland Bloom?” Sloane asks.

If he’s taken aback by the question, he tries not to let it show. There’s something to be said for cutting to the chase.

“Typical wealthy man over the age of seventy-five. Realty properties all accounted for. He owns two other luxury hotels in Chicago -- that’s his hometown. His major investments are in the tech industry, though. Uses the regular tactics to avoid higher taxes, but that’s run-of-the-mill when it comes to his type. He also was in Sintra with his wife all last month; she’s taking part in an experimental trial for some health issues. He just got back in town yesterday.”

A disappointed grunt sounds over the line, followed by the unmistakable rustle of a chip bag being opened. The noise reminds him that it’s been several hours since his last meal. Nestling the phone between his ear and shoulder, Ethan pushes to his feet and wanders into the kitchen.

“Damn. Well, can’t rule out a hired hand situation. The man did have a double kidney transplant last year.”

“How do you know that?” he asks, curious.

There’s a crunch, then a pause before her muffled reply comes: “His assistant posted a photo to their Pictagram page of some flowers and a get well soon message.”

“Oh.”

“So, I can’t picture him pulling an Eliot Ness and dropping someone off a roof.”

“That isn’t actually how Frank Nitti died--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she interrupts. “It’s still a great movie, despite the inaccuracies.”

“And here I would’ve figured you would be a stickler for getting the facts correct.”

“Then you must have missed our newest slogan: ‘Ratings first, facts second.’”

The flippant response, combined with the industry-standard delivery, catches him off-guard. The breathy chuckle escapes him before he can attempt to reign it in.

“Jokes aside,” Sloane continues, “I couldn’t find any dirt on Bloom either. Other than some antitrust charges back in 1978 and some shady investments when the 2008 recession hit, he’s relatively clean for, you know, a billionaire. Either his hush money is real good, or he’s legit.”

Ethan opens his fridge and scours the shelves, as if a meal will magically appear before his eyes. His last case kept him in Philadelphia for three weeks, so he hasn’t had a chance to restock. The wilted lettuce, pack of deli meat, and extensive collection of oat milk creamers (for Baz and his coffee addiction) refuse to merge into anything edible. Thumbing open the nearest takeout menu, he props a hip against the counter and sighs.

“Any luck garnering more interviews?” he asks.

“Perry is going to be tougher than I thought. He sprang for a lawyer -- Shonda Turner.”

He voices his frustration for that, echoed by her on the other end. “Tell me about it. All my calls are rerouted to some answering machine in the courthouse basement and if I have to read another automatic email response from her assistant I’ll scream. Oh, speaking of emails -- I got one from a J. Horner asking to meet tomorrow. They’re a former Edenbrook employee, but I couldn’t find that name listed on any of the payroll statements.”

“And how would you have access to those?”

“From my BF.”

“Oh.” Then, after an awkward period of silence, he realizes he needs to say more. “Does he work there?”

“What?” she asks, and Ethan can picture her nose wrinkling in confusion. “Oh, no. BF stands for Big Fish.”

At his answering silence, she elaborates. “I’ve been emailing back and forth with a former employee -- they used to be a manager there. I haven’t had any luck with them agreeing to talk. Yet. But I’ve just got to wait them out until they’re ready.”

“Just how long have you been working on this… story of yours?”

“About four months now. That interview with Farrugia was a major victory -- especially since my last piece on him wasn’t exactly a glowing review.” That dry chuckle of hers sounds again. “But it worked out that he’d gotten a new aide between then and now, and Farrugia’s memory is -- er, was -- shit.”

“So, you need to reel in your Big Fish,” he surmises.

“Exactly.”

The conversation having come to a close, he realizes that he needs to hang up and resume his plans for the evening. Plans that consist of him ordering takeout and staring at reports for three more hours. It strikes him, then, that he doesn’t really want the conversation to end. She may laugh at her own jokes and make too many outdated references, but he finds her… interesting. A little too headstrong, maybe, which makes him wary -- but he can’t deny it’s refreshing to work with someone else who’s still on the clock at eight p.m.

Before he can think of something to say, though, there’s the distinct sound of a doorbell. Sloane mumbles something into the receiver and then he can hear her, muffled now, thanking someone, followed by the tell-tale crinkling of a paper bag. It’s enough of a cue for him to end the call when she comes back on.

It’s probably just his imagination that she sounds disappointed.

“Keep me in the loop on the Horner person.”

“Will do. Well, night then, Agent Ramsey.”

The emphasis she puts on his title isn’t lost on him. He decides to ignore it, more for the sake of teasing her than anything else.

“Goodnight, Sloane.”

Wednesday, January 14, 2:36 p.m.

Juggling two drink trays, keys, and an accordion folder that’s seen better days, Sloane jogs across the floor and over to the elevator bank. Where a crowd of well-dressed, stiff-lipped people block the doors, all waiting their turn to be taken up to the fifteenth floor to be charmed by Roger Calais, the EVP of marketing.

“Fuck,” she mutters.

She curses some more as she climbs the six flights of stairs to reach the newsroom. Darting through the maze of desks and rolling chairs, she makes it to her cubicle in time before the cramp in her arm costs her forty-three dollars in iced coffee. The chorus of praise from her coworkers is cut short by her announcement.

“The advertising execs are here.”

“What?” Bryce gapes.

“That’s so not fair!” Sienna, a global affairs reporter, hisses from around her straw. “We just had some through last week.”

“I don’t wanna play zoo,” Elijah whines from his desk.

“They were being herded up to Calais’s office a few minutes ago. That should buy us some time. And,” Sloane pauses to take a gulp of her coffee, “maybe they’ll bypass us and go straight to the studio. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Maybe we will.”

Sloane twists to glance down at Jackie, their counterterrorism correspondent, and frowns at the lustful look in her eyes. Straw still in her mouth, she turns to spot what grabbed Jackie’s attention. Standing at the steps that lead down into the bullpen, Ramsey sweeps across the throng of journalists. When that gaze of his catches hers, she blames the little shiver on the crappy central heating.

“How’d you get up here?” she asks as he approaches, sans visitor pass.

“Maybe I’m a fan,” he parrots in that standard-issue dry tone of his. She catches the corner of his mouth lift briefly into a smile. “I do have a badge, you know.”

“I’ve yet to see it.”

Ramsey lifts an eyebrow at that, but says nothing.

“Who’s your new friend, Slo?” Elijah calls down from his end with a smirk.

“We’re working together. For a story.”

Sloane hopes that her short tone and steely glare will prevent any further questions. Having grown used to ignoring such signs, Sienna pushes aside the report she was editing and clasps her hands together below her chin.

“Ooh, what’s it about?” she asks.

“Is it classified?” Jackie demands to know.

Bryce snorts and shakes his head. “You should know better than to ask that.”

“I’m not CIA.”

Before Ramsey can frown his way back out of the building, Sloane grips his arm and guides him out of earshot.

“Seriously though, what are you doing here? You didn’t drive all the way from Chelsea, did you?”

“I did when you didn’t answer your phone.”

Digging into her pocket, she retrieves her phone and taps the screen to life. Her notification bar shows three missed calls and four missed texts -- three from Baz and one from Ramsey. A quick glance at the side tells her that the ringer was left on silent from her meeting.

“Shit. Sorry.” With an exaggerated motion, she flips it back on to vibrate. “Bring me up to speed, then. What’s so important?”

“That former employee you were going to meet yesterday, the bellhop -- Garrison? He’s dead.”

The anticipation thrumming through her grinds to a halt. Her shoulders slump down at his words.

“Oh. Yeah, I know.”

“You know?” he repeats, his brows lifting in surprise.

“I have a friend who’s an EMT. He was first on scene and saw my card on the fridge. He said the ME was probably going to rule it a suicide, what with the gunshot wound to the head.” Biting at her lip, Sloane shakes her head. “But the emails I have from Garrison don’t add up to that. He wanted to be free of whatever info he had, so he could move on with his life. He even agreed to testify if it ever became a court case.”

She thought it seemingly impossible, but somehow Ramsey’s frown deepens.

“People often make promises they don’t intend to keep.”

There’s a story -- several, in fact -- behind his words. The journalist in her demands she scratch that itch, but she shoves it aside. That’s for another time. Or another day when the marketing team isn’t going to show them off like artifacts in a museum. “Besides, he’s not the only bad news I came down to report. Mitch Keller, a server who worked at the hotel’s restaurant, was also found dead this morning.”

“Same cause of death?” she asks.

“No. The ME suspects alcohol poisoning. Which is odd, given that Keller had an alcohol intolerance, and never drank more than a single gin and tonic when going out, according to his friends. That’s three deaths within one week that all have ties to the Edenbrook. Baz may believe in the power of coincidences, but that’s too many in too short of time. I’m headed to Keller’s apartment now to check it out.”

Out in the hallway, the roaming crowd of suits are closing in. Ramsey turns to assess what’s caught her attention. The jackass has the nerve to smirk at her as he starts for the exit. “Good luck with that.”

Desperate to get out of buttering-up the top brass of televised marketing -- and annoyed at being left behind -- Sloane streaks back over to her desk. Her friends are all busy packing up, trying to make their own escape. Ignoring their teasing remarks, she grabs her things and chases after Ramsey. Sprinting out of the newsroom, she sputters out an apology when she whacks one of the visitors with the door.

“In a rush to meet a deadline?” Calais calls from his position at the front of the pack.

She has enough wherewithal to laugh at the lame joke, as do most of the suits. This close, she can read the text stamped along their blue-and-white lanyards. Not advertising executives, then. Suspicion and intrigue form a knot in her gut when she spots Declan Nash among the bored faces. It’s really not fair that she’s chasing down one lead and another literally waltzes into her building. Ramsey is gone when she scans the hallway, though, which means she needs to get her ass in gear.

“We won’t keep you from informing the masses,” Nash says with a sneer. He flaps a hand at her in dismissal.

Sloane flashes him a half-assed smile before turning and booking it down the corridor. Ramsey’s already in the elevator when she turns the corner. The doors whine when he slaps his hand out and prevents them from closing.

“Well?” he prompts with a sigh.

As she approaches, she spots a familiar gleam in his eye.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. And, seriously, no photographs this time.”

Wednesday, January 14, 2:46 p.m.

That bitch.

He straightens his tie as Calais chatters on. Through the glass, people start to turn in their chairs to see what all the fuss is about. The aggravation is plain to see in the set of their jaws, in the browsers and word processors that minimize.

“I brought you all down here so you can see the real beauty of journalism at work. There’s a reason we’re the most trusted name in news, and it’s because of these people right here. It would be wonderful to bring you all inside, to meet the powerhouse behind our coverage.”

Calais is all bravado as he gestures to the pissed-off employees stuck inside their little glass box.

He resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Well, other than Miss McTavish, since she had other places to be.”

Another chuckle rolls through the group. He can’t bring himself to join in this time because fuck that was her, wasn’t it? The ugly beanie she had on and the coffee in her hand that nearly ruined his suit had distracted him. The dossier he has on her only contained a copy of her ID badge, small and pixelated.

Still, her leaving wasn’t all for naught. It makes it that much easier to grab the little book from her desk as they pass it.

Wednesday, January 14, 3:34 p.m.

“You told them I was a rookie agent in training? Really?”

From downstairs comes the tell-tale sound of a camera shutter. After giving them both a set of protective gear, the crime scene techs entertained Ramsey’s fumbling attempt to explain her appearance and waved them through.

Flashing a roguish grin at her over his shoulder, he shrugs.

“Well, I couldn’t introduce you as a colossal pain in my ass, now could I?”

“It would make a hell of a lot more sense, given that we’re five-hundred miles from Quantico.”

The teasing dwindles when they reach the only open bedroom. Piles of textbooks are stacked on the nightstand, a spray of rainbow post-it notes peeking out of the pages. A medical journal lays open on the bed; lines from an article on vaping-induced lung injuries are colored a bright yellow from a highlighter. Fast food cups cover every flat surface, their matching bags crumpled into balls of salt and grease on the bedside floor. Scrubs and button-downs litter the carpet and bed and desk chair. Sneakers and non-skid oxfords are piled near the door, where a lanyard hangs from the doorknob. Keller smiles up at them from the laminated badge, his dimples on prominent display.

“He’s an intern at Mass Kenmore, too.” Sloane gestures towards the badge. “Two jobs would keep him busy. Certainly explains the mess.”

“Three jobs,” Ramsey corrects, plucking a ziplock bag from the mini fridge with a gloved hand. “Unless you consider selling bump to barneys a hobby.”

“How do you know it’s not his personal supply?”

“Because there’s a moleskine beside it with payment amounts that says otherwise.” He hands the journal to her, which she flips through to the most recent entries. It’s all initials and grams and payments; just some basic bookkeeping for a side hustle. “Maybe someone got upset with him. Could be they wanted more than he could supply, or he was charging over the retail price for the area.”

“Are you seriously suggesting that some college kids did this?” Sloane doesn’t bother hiding the skepticism in her voice.

“Why not?”

“Because college kids don’t kill you by making you drink yourself to death.”

“There’s a slew of cheaply-produced television episodes that would disagree.”

“How many of those included a victim who actively avoided getting drunk?”

Ramsey hums in consideration as he continues to rifle through Keller’s desk. Standing over six feet tall and dressed in plastic coveralls and booties, he should look comical. Somehow, he retains his strange air of appeal. Behind the gruff persona he wears, he’s determined and honest and curious -- especially with the way his eyes cut over to her when he thinks she’s not looking. She’s not exactly sure what he’s looking for every time, but she finds that she doesn’t mind.

The crusted stain of a half-digested combo meal on the floor between them keeps her focused on the task at hand, though.

“But, honestly, why do you think it’s some Harvard kid? Why not his supplier?” she questions.

“I’m not sure. If you’re having problems with one of your dealers, you probably have the means to handle him in a way that’s less… messy. But we won’t know his blood alcohol level until we get the toxicology report back. And because he’s not a United States senator,” he cuts a long-suffering gaze over to her and then away again, “that will take some time. There’s something I’m missing, though. If there’s no foul-play involved, then why would he drink himself to death? A guy with his condition doesn’t accidentally consume this much alcohol. Baz checked into his job. There’s been no history of complaints or disciplinary actions taken against him. He was high in the rankings for some internship competition.”

“He’s also working a second job as a server, probably to offload those loans faster. Not to mention the other side business. Means he was probably pretty stressed, overworked,” she adds. “But drinking yourself to death is a punishing way to go. Women usually go for overdoses, men go for firearms. Except in big cities...”

“Where they jump,” he finishes for her.

Despite all she saw during her time abroad, the image of Farrugia’s body atop that car is a difficult one to shake away.

Ramsey moves over to the closet and sweeps a hand across the top shelf. Retrieving a shoe box, he flips it open -- only to make a disappointed noise at the concert tickets and trinkets from a graduation trip to Belize. Sloane takes a step back and goes over the room once more. According to the police, all of Keller’s roommates were out partying the night before, and didn’t come home until late this morning to find him. No signs of forced entry, no signs of a robbery. They didn’t even take the drugs he was hiding in his sock drawer. Aside from a few empty bottles of Seagrams, there’s nothing much else to go on.

“Wait.”

Ramsey looks up from the group photo to see her scrutinizing the ring of vomit. “Do you smell that?” she asks.

“It’s hard not to,” he says with a grimace.

“No, I mean-- I know it’s been a while since your college days, but -- does it smell like a fifth of vodka in here to you?”

He drags in a deep breath. Other than the unpleasant scent clogging the room, there’s only the smell of dust burn-off from the furnace.

“No, it doesn’t.”

On a hunch, Sloane ducks into the bathroom across the hall and lifts the toilet seat cover. The water in the bowl is blue. But underneath the chemical perfume of dollar store cleaner is the even more potent smell of liquor.

“He could’ve made it to the toilet and cleaned up after himself,” Ramsey points out from where he’s standing in the doorway.

Taking a page from his book, Sloane scoffs.

“In a drunken stupor? With a room that looks like it was hit by a tornado? I don’t think so. I don’t think he ever made it out of that room.”

He squats down to open the cabinet under the sink and hums with interest. It’s probably mean of her to enjoy the way his breath hitches as she crowds close to have a peek. Amongst the general debris of multiple young adults, there isn’t a bottle of cleaner to be found. A quick glance into the trash can shows the same. Ramsey rises to his feet.

“I’ll make sure the techs do a sweep in here. But I agree with you. One bottle of vodka would have done the trick, too. So, why so many bottles, then? And why dump them out?”

“The killer probably didn’t know about his intolerance,” she figures. “But how did they force him to drink anything at all? Why did he not try to get help?”

From the tiny window next to the sink, they watch the ME load Keller’s body into the van outside. Ramsey exhales with a frustrated sigh.

“I’m not sure. But we’ll find out.”

Taglist:

@togetherwearerapture @maurine07 @lsvdw-blog @writinghereandthere @openheartfanfics

Author's notes and what-have-yous:

The movie that Ethan and Sloane talk about at the beginning is The Untouchables. Also standard disclaimer that, similar to other crime procedurals, timelines on evidence and forensics will be hastened for the sake of the story.

[rosecoloredbi-writes]

Settle (Chapter 2)

Summary: After the death of your best friend and their spouse, you went from Godparent to Parent overnight. Now, Mio is your world. Because of this new role, you move back to Tokyo, Japan in order to keep Mio with her friends and her school, even if it means you might run into *him*.

Warnings: Mentions of stalking. Swearing probably. Cannon violence. Single parenthood. barely mentions Mio’s parents passing.

Gender Neutral!Reader x Shouta Aizawa (Eventual)

Mentions of past GN!Reader x Dabi

A/N: Okay here is the second part! It is all coming together *insert mischievous grin here*. Thanks to my cool sister @dungeons-and-awkwarddragons for being my beta reader! This probably would have gone in a less interesting direction without her :)

Everything went just as you had decided. The man- Aizawa showed up at 6 sharp and you showed him to your sitting area to wait for dinner.

He sat there doing his best to seem at ease even if he was far from it. He took some time to look around the room. There weren't very many photographs up, only a few of you and Mio, two or three of Mio and who he assumed to be her recently departed parents, and a couple of Mio throughout the years. The other decorations included a spattering of drawings with Mio's name and the date written neatly in a corner, a painting, and some decorative plates.

"Dinner is ready!" You called out and Mio appeared from a different room, quickly washed her hands, and sat down at the table.

Aizawa followed suit, sitting across from you.

You asked Mio about her day and Aizawa realized that even though she didn't speak, she had her own way of communicating with you.

He was slightly surprised when you turned your attention on him.

"Aizawa, how was your day?" You asked, sounding only a little forced.

"It was fine," he choked out, "My students were all too excited when I had to end class a little early."

"Oh, you teach?" Your voice was polite and it remained that way for most of the evening.

That is until Mio had gone to sleep and the two of you were left to your own devices.

Before sitting back down, you grab two glasses and a bottle of sake. Aizawa raises an eyebrow when you hand him a filled glass, that is until he isn’t overwhelmed by the strong smell of alcohol.

Right. The ruse. He takes a long drink, pretending the clear liquid burns as it goes down.

"So were you genuinely interested in getting to know me or were you just trying to get information out of me?" You pull him out of his thoughts with your directness.

Aizawa's head shot up from staring at the glass in his hand and his eyes met yours. He hadn't noticed the ring of gray around your pupil before.

"Aizawa?" You repeated. "Shouta?"

"Right," he shook his head, reorienting back to reality, trying not to focus on the way hearing you say his given name made him feel. "Technically speaking I was asked to get general information?"

"Technically speaking? And why do you make that sound like a question? I understand if it was purely the job, but the look you had in your eye…" it was your turn to shake your head. He was good at avoiding giving a solid answer.

"I-"

Before he could answer you, Mio walked out, rubbing her eyes. You were on your feet in an instant and as far away from Aizawa as you could be.

"Did you have another dream?" Your voice was soft, he noticed, especially soft when Mio was around, even if you weren't talking directly to her... And when you had said his name.

Mio nodded and you grabbed some paper and markers from the small desk in the corner. Before she began drawing, you wrote down Mio's name and the date and then gave her space to draw after getting her a glass of water.

You sat down next to Aizawa, a little further apart than you probably needed to be.

"She has these dreams," you began explaining, "they plague her until she puts them on paper."

"So all the others," he motioned toward the other drawings on the wall, "those were dreams too?"

You nod, "they come true, too."

He turned to look at you a little too quickly, not noticing how you had both gravitated towards each other. He put his hand on the couch to scoot over, back away from you, but his hand touched yours and instinctively pulled away, almost like he’d touched something hot.

"I only know once they've happened. It frustrates her that she can't put more detail in. That she can't prevent it." Your voice is barely a whisper and for some reason it makes him shiver. "She deserves better."

He can only nod in agreement.

Mio fell asleep with her head in your lap, your fingers gently running through her hair. Aizawa had the drawing in his hands, looking over the different colored lines. This one was more abstract than the others but one thing stood out- a pair of turquoise eyes.

He passed it back to you, your eyes going directly to the all too familiar ones on the page.

"I should update Hawks," he says, standing. "If that's alright with you."

You nod, moving Mio so that she's in your arms, head resting on your shoulder. He offers you a hand and helps you up. He moves away from the window and makes his call as you go put Mio in your own bed this time. When you come out you have a set of blankets and a pillow for the couch.

You make up his makeshift bed as he finishes up on the phone. Hawks says something and he looks up to you, catching your eye. He holds it for so long it almost feels intimate.

"What does Hawks want now?" You ask in a hushed tone. "What does he want from me, or Mio?”

He takes a few steps so that he's right in front of you and his fingers brush your own so briefly you are left wondering if it even happened.

"They want to see the drawings…" he trails off.

"And?" You ask. "Shouta, what else?"

"They want to do some testing to better understand Mio's quirk. Yours too while they're at it."

You took a few steps back shaking your head. "You don't understand," your voice was low but intense, "you don't understand!" Your volume grew only slightly as your feet pushed you closer to him. "Do whatever tests on me that you want, but her? My Mio? You leave her out of it. I'll tell you anything you want to know but she does nothing, I mean *nothing* that she doesn't want to do. You got it?" Your fingers jabbed sharply into his sternum, and at the same moment, he could feel your breath on his lips.

"I understand," he whispers, letting out a breath as he steps around you and moves to his bed for the night. "I'll inform them in the morning."

Turquoise eyes watch as you climb into bed with the sleeping girl who instinctively reaches out for you as soon as you lay down.

He would have thought it was sweet, but those days were long over. Moving quickly to the other side of the apartment he got a visual of one of U.A.'s teachers trying to get comfortable on the made-up couch. Now that intrigued him, even if it shouldn't. Eraser Head, if he remembers correctly.

He's about to move back to keep his eyes on you when he hears the distinct sound of wings overhead.

"Guess it's meeting time," he mutters.

One last glance at the hero in your living room he sees Aizawa pulling a yellow sleeping bag seemingly out of nowhere and zipping it all the way up before quickly falling asleep on the couch.

Hawks lands a few buildings over, out of sight of Y/N’s apartment. He sighs, impatient as Dabi takes his time, walking over to him like the dramatic fucker he is.

“There you are,” he comments, his tone bored.

“What do you have for me, bird brain?”

Hawks stands a little straighter with his wings expand only slightly as he begins to relay some of the new information to him. He keeps some key information to himself, for some reason he can’t get himself to give Dabi everything he had decided to, and that irks him.

“Well, well, well,” Dabi says as he begins to walk away, “I see our little double agent is proving himself useful, for now.”

Walking back to his posting, Dabi decides he is tired of playing stalker. If it was up to him, he would have nabbed the target weeks ago, before the heroes got involved. But no, he had decided to join the league, but, they were just a means to an end. Even so, he was done playing by their rules. He climbs up the tree quickly then hops over to the limb he prefers to perch on. Then, he watches you sleeping soundly for the first night in over a month.

[indepthpokemonheadcanons]

Ten Things I Wish I’d Known Before Taking The Gym Challenge

When it comes to challenging the League, making mistakes is part of the whole experience. No matter when or how you do it, it won’t pan out quite as you expect, and everyone’s experience is different. That said, a little advice can go a long way, so here are my top things to remember:

1. Unofficial gyms are great for everyday training.

In the big cities, official Gyms are crowded, oversubscribed, and pretty dang expensive. Unofficial gyms might not be affiliated with the League, but they’re perfectly serviceable for everyday training. Most are staffed with an array of type specialists, who can advise you on everything from battle technique to how you hold yourself on the pitch. If you’re of school age or taking a gap year, you can usually flash your trainer card and get the same discounts you would in an official Gym. Make use of them. Book a one-on-one session if you can.

That’s not to say you should avoid official Gyms. They’re usually much better equipped, and taking lessons from the Gym Leader themselves will give you a feel for their style. But there’s no need to spend all your time there - especially as the cafés are daylight robbery. 

2. If you’re staying at a Pokémon Centre, don’t sleep late.

Aside from dorms, most Centres have communal kitchens and cheap laundry services. If you want to have any chance of getting near them, rise early. When it comes to charging phones and Pokédexes, you just need to get lucky - nab a plug, defend it, but try not to hog it. If there’s a queue of people who need juice, priority goes to whoever’s on the lowest percentage. A few weeks into your journey, 40% will become the new 100%. 

3. For the love of god, don’t keep your trainer card in a random pocket.

You will lose it, and replacing it is a nightmare. You’ll have to cancel the old card and order a new one at full price, even if you received your initial one through an Access Scheme. What’s more, you can’t challenge Gym Leaders without a valid ID, nor enter most paying tournaments, even if the booking was made before the loss of the card. Save yourself the grief and keep it in your wallet. 

4. You don’t need to stick with one style of battling.

Even if you know what kind of trainer you want to be, don’t be afraid to mess around, especially in friendly battles. Try out doubles and triples, swap pokémon for a few matches, restrict your team to contact or non-contact moves. Even if it’s just for a laugh, you’ll be surprised at how much you’ll learn. 

5. There is no one way to approach your challenge.  

Nobody’s experience is the same, so don’t feel self-conscious about not doing it ‘right’. Some people don’t take on the Gyms until they’re well into adulthood. Some people don’t leave home, preferring to train locally and travel out to each Gym in turn. Some are seasoned trainers, already having collected badges in other regions. Some are utter novices. Some approach the challenge casually, seeing it as something for the CV. Others view it as a path towards sponsorship and a long-term career in the battle industry. The one uniting factor? Everybody is too preoccupied with their own experience to judge other people’s. Try to learn from the variety of people rather than comparing yourself to them.

6. You can split the costs of a storage subscription with friends.

For a lot of people, the Gym challenge goes hand in hand with capturing new pokémon. Some Trainer Access Schemes offer a storage account among their benefits, but the schemes are less common than they used to be, and some find the subscriptions offered too basic. Split between a few people, an unlimited Box subscription is good value for money - it also allows you to create several accounts, so you can each keep your spare pokémon in a secure place. 

7. When you’re battling casually, it’s best to keep money out of it.

While it’s tempting to lay bets and battle for big bucks, it can cause arguments, especially when it’s day 90 and everyone’s stressed and sweaty and worn out. In friendly matches with strangers, the last square of chocolate or the comfiest armchair in the Pokémon Centre lounge are as tempting prizes as any. 

8. Remember that Gym Leaders are just regular people.

The sooner you stop treating them like huge celebrities, the more comfortable you’ll be in their presence, and the easier it will be to learn from them. Ask them as many (battle-related) questions as you can, put yourself forward, and make sure they understand your style. This is especially important if you plan to challenge the Elite Four, as Gym Leaders can put you in touch with agents and sponsors, as well as offer you advanced lessons when the time comes. 

Don’t be afraid to ask for selfies with them, though. 9 times out of 10, they’ll be cool with it.  

9. It’s worth investing in decent Pokéballs   

Cheap Pokéballs can smell fear, and they will pick the worst opportunity to malfunction or run dry. Some pokémon aren’t permitted to run free in public spaces, so the last thing you want is for them to be forcibly ejected. You also don’t want to gear up for a Gym battle or a tournament, only to have your Pokéball lose power and lock. Silph Pokéballs might be eye-wateringly expensive, but they last for life and never need to be charged. They’re also incredibly secure, boasting touch ID and wireless connectivity to the Box system. In the face of repeated, forcible ejection attempts, the pokémon will be withdrawn from the ball and placed into a linked storage account, which means you don’t need to need to worry about theft. 

10. You will have to come to terms with your own abilities.

Deep down, we all think we’re hotshots at battling. Even if we doubt our skills, we still think we’ll catch a wave at the right moment - suddenly, everything will click, and we’ll start breezing through the Gyms, winning tournaments, making a beeline for that Champion spot.

Fortunately and unfortunately, that’s not the case. The bitter pill to swallow: even when you beat them, Gym Leaders are much more skilled than you are. Some of them are among the best trainers in the world, but their job is to battle at your level and exploit the weaknesses in your technique. As you improve, they will adjust how much pressure they put on you, so you can actually expect to lose more when you challenge later Gyms.

Even once you collect all of your badges, it’s highly unlikely that you will be able to best a Gym Leader in a genuine, all-out battle. Novice trainers often get hung up on this - that they only won because the Gym Leader allowed them to, that they haven’t beaten them for real.

This is something most people have to make peace with. Ultimately, Gym Leaders do allow you to win - but only after presenting you with a rigorous challenge, which you have to train for and overcome. At its heart, the Gym Challenge has always been about personal improvement. So manage your expectations, celebrate your victories, and have fun out there! 

[sirloozelite]

20 First Lines (Tag Game)

Thank you for the kind tag @minniethemoocherda. Go and check out their 20 lines at this tag: https://minniethemoocherda.tumblr.com/post/647816200779350016/20-first-lines-tag-game

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories.  See if there are any patterns. Then tag more of your mutual authors!

Minor side note... I don’t have 20 stories. I do have lots of one shots though... so I’ll use some of those that I like! All are from Star Wars. XD

Double side note, I’m rubbish at hyperlinking stuff. I don’t understand how to do it, so if you want to find any of the stories in question for whatever reason use this: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirLoozElite/works

1: The Former Apprentices

Malachor was dark, and not just in terms of visibility.

2: The Tale of Two Fulcrums

How did she get here? When did she get here? Why was she here?

3: Vendettas and Stratagems

He was lost. Days, weeks, months of searching for him on this miserable planet.

4: To Take Down An Emperor

The Lambda class shuttle landed with a resounding thud in the hanger day, the engines powering down from the long flight.

5: Agent of the Chancellor

The temple was burning, something that should have never happened under any circumstances.

6: Zabrak in a Cave

"Maul? You ok?"

7: Target Profile: The Spectres of the Ghost

From the office of Grand Admiral Mitth'raw'nurodo to the office of ISB Colonel Wullf Yularen and office of Emperor Sheev Palpatine, the following is a target dossier on the individuals of the rebel cell Phoenix Squadron referred to as the 'Spectres'.

8: Earwigging

Very few people sat with him during his off hours, and Alexsandr Kallus knew why.

9: Old Friends, Now Foes

Rebels have infiltrated the base.

10: The Healer

Every time Ezra flew an A-wing, he seemed to crash.

11: Sparring Practise

The first time it happened, he learnt a valuable lesson, one he had only heard Yoda preach before.

12: The Harrowing Fate of Davits Draven

Davits Draven's head hurt… a lot!

13: The Name’s Kallus, Alexsandr Kallus

'Agent Fulcrum we have a new mission for you.

14: Ahsoka and the Acolytes

They had caught her completely off guard, and with no way of defending herself.

15: The Sith Afterlife

Darth Sidious awakened to find himself in unfamiliar territory.

16: The Machinations of the Son (Part 1)

"I have a gift for you."

17: Parting of the Ways

The smouldering wreckage of the Venator that had nearly been a death trap for them both was the last thing on Captain Rex's mind right now.

18: Nightmare

An endless swarm of blaster fire erupted in her direction, each shot either missing her by inches, or being precisely deflected away by her sabers.

19: Kaeden’s Secret Article

"So… when's the wedding?"

20: Rex’s Nightmare

The blaring of the siren, coupled with the dense black smoke awakened Captain Rex of the 501st from his slumber, his head pulsating in agony, a clear sign of a nasty headache.

... not really sure if there is any constancy with my first sentences, but it was fun to see them all. Hopefully they all set the scene good at the very least, or nab the reader’s attention.  As for tagging people, I’ll hit up @rangerslayer-97 and @swgoji2001 as usual, but I know they might not have 20 stories either, so if they want to do it they can improvise like I did. Plus anyone else who sees this and wants a go, by all means go ahead. XD

[melynen]

You Bet - Bill Tanner/Alec Trevelyan

Written for the Trope prompt table’s prompt ‘Betting pool’.

For once, the betting pool wasn’t about James or Q or their relationship.

Alec had stumbled upon it completely by accident, when he’d hacked into R’s work laptop in search of something else entirely — namely, information about a particular gadget he’d heard James mention the last time they’d been at the pub celebrating yet another successful mission. James had waxed poetic about it and how Q had allowed him to test it out at the labs, so of course Alec got curious.

Perhaps he also lamented the fact that he hadn’t thought to nab himself a Q Brancher when he’d had the chance, if those were the perks, but that was neither here nor there now that he was taken and happily so.

Of course, not everybody knew about his and Bill’s relationship; M knew and by extension Eve did too, and he’d naturally told James who’d shared it with Q, but that was it. And it wasn’t like they were keeping it a secret, either, it was just that Bill wanted to keep private matters private and Alec respected that.

Alec had managed to lure his more reticent boyfriend into a few empty rooms in Six for a bit of snogging here and there, though, so he considered it a fair deal.

Still, the betting pool made no mention of Bill. None at all.

It had everything to do with him, however. It seemed that someone had heard him say that he was in a relationship, but not with whom, and the whole thing was centered around the identity of his mysterious partner. Bond and Q taking him along into their relationship was currently the option in the lead, but Eve, several other field agents, some people from Accounting and Medical, and even M had their names connected to his.

Alec was both extremely amused over the assumption that Bond and Q would want anyone else to join their relationship, and a tiny bit hurt over no one thinking that Bill might find him attractive enough to date.

Bill himself would probably find it all perfectly hilarious, though. Alec was going to tell him during their date in the evening, in any case. Perhaps they’d find some more amusement in it together.

*

Alec knocked on Bill’s door at precisely 7 pm. Bill let him in almost immediately, which told him that his lover had been expecting him.

“Miss me?” He grinned and, without so much as removing his jacket, pulled the man into his arms and kissed him on the lips.

“Apparently not as much as you did,” Bill said dryly when they drew away for Alec to finally lose the jacket, though there was enough of a sparkle in his eyes to tell Alec that he hardly meant it.

Alec shrugged and picked up the bottle of white wine he’d brought along then offered it to Bill. “I was bored,” he said by way of an explanation.

Bill snorted. “I’m sure. Weren’t you sparring with Bond for most of the afternoon?”

“Man can win, or lose although that’s just another way of looking at the same thing, only so many times in a row,” Alec said loftily.

“And you didn’t think to finish up your paperwork with all that time you had to kill?”

Alec, who was following Bill to the dining room and was therefore behind him, felt it safe to roll his eyes. “Of course not.”

Bill’s, “Don’t think I didn’t see that,” quickly disabused him of that particular notion, however.

People never really gave Bill enough credit. They’d see him and think that he was just another polite, soft-spoken bureaucrat, but Alec knew the truth. He knew that Bill had a core of pure steel, and that he was witty and intelligent and that he genuinely cared about other people. Knowing that only made him appreciate the man more.

Besides, not just about anyone could hold their own with a double-oh agent, and Bill was among those few that could.

They reached the dining room, a light and spacious room with a large table perfect for both dinner parties and smaller, more intimate get-togethers, and Alec could see that Bill had everything ready and waiting for them. The only thing that was missing was the bottle of wine, which Bill deposited into a bucket of ice, and they themselves.

Bill always insisted that whenever he cooked for them, they’d dine together properly in the dining room, complete with wine and dessert and all the works. Alec found it sweet, so he never said no when his boyfriend suggested that he come around for dinner.

Today’s menu was on the simpler side, a baguette with an olive tapenade followed by a fettuccine Alfredo as the main course and chocolate mousse for dessert, as Bill had had a long day at the office and hadn’t had too much time to prepare. To Alec, who really didn’t like cooking at all, it all sounded perfectly heavenly.

“It smells so good,” he said as he took his seat at the table. “I can’t wait to eat it… and you, afterwards.” He followed the words with an exaggerated leer and a wink as well, and was silenced by a glare that had more fondness in it than any other emotion.

“Just be quiet and eat your food, you menace,” Bill said as he opened the wine bottle and poured them a glass, though he didn’t sound like he was all too serious with his words.

Alec chuckled but did what he was told, and enjoyed each bite immensely.

“Thank you, it was delicious,” he said once they’d both finished eating and he was helping Bill clear out the table. “I honestly have no idea how you do it each and every time.”

Bill shrugged, looking quietly pleased. “I love cooking.” He paused, smiled, and pressed a tiny, gentle kiss on Alec’s cheek. “And I especially love cooking for you.”

After, they retired to the living room to relax and have some more wine. Alec wrapped his arm around Bill’s shoulder and took a sip of wine while his boyfriend made himself comfortable next to him.

“I found something interesting today when I hacked R’s laptop,” he said after a few moments of silence.

“What did I tell you about hacking R’s laptop?” Bill asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not to do it,” Alec replied dutifully. “But Q’s is too well protected and I couldn’t be sure which minion had the information I needed.”

Bill snorted. “Not to mention that Bond would kick your arse if you tried.”

“Hey now,” Alec protested. “I’ll have you know that I won all our sparring matches today.”

“I was under the impression that you lost them,” Bill said innocently. “Since winning and losing are the same thing and all.”

Alec poked him on the side with his elbow. But lightly, as he didn’t want to hurt him, simply make a point. “Either way,” he said, eager to share his news. “I found a betting pool centered around yours truly.”

“Oh?” Bill said, sounding only mildly curious. “Do tell?”

So Alec did. He explained what it was all about, and also went through the people that were being guessed as his secret lover.

“None of them mentioned you,” he added, still a little affronted for his boyfriend.

Bill shrugged. ”Honestly, I’m not that surprised. When people were betting for Q’s secret lover, nobody suggested me then either.”

“People are idiots,” Alec said.

“Let’s not go quite that far, perhaps,” Bill said, and then a slow smile spread over his face. “We could have some fun with it though. Make an anonymous bet and win a lot of money. And in addition, I could even go and bet on someone really unrealistic. Like Eve. Or M.”

Alec felt himself start to grin. “I like the sound of that.” It was things like these that made him love his boyfriend more.

“We’ll donate the money to charity afterwards, of course,” Bill continued, matter-of-fact.

And that, too.

“That’s settled then,” Alec said, nodding. They deserved to lose their money for ignoring his Bill like that, and the money would go for good cause.

Alec did so love killing two birds with one stone.